


Urgent Need

by TMar



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 00:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16587056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMar/pseuds/TMar
Summary: Blair comes home one night to discover that Jim is having his needs met by... Simon?!!





	Urgent Need

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even remember when I wrote this; the date on the file is 1998. I didn't even notice until now that it had never been uploaded to AO3. So here it is. Hope you like.

URGENT NEED

Blair tiptoed into the loft. Now he knew intellectually that, what with  
Sentinel senses, his roommate could hear him no matter whether he tiptoed  
quietly or burst in with a Mexican salsa band, but tiptoeing made him feel  
better. Sometimes Jim would be sleeping with his earplugs in, and then  
tiptoeing actually did work.

Blair had been at his office, trying to bring some order to the choas that  
currently reigned - and if he was honest, had been reigning since he'd  
gotten that office. He'd had a little time, and since it was Jim's turn to  
have his date at the loft, he'd decided that cleaning his office would be  
more productive than hanging out doing nothing much with a bunch of  
uninteresting people.

This thought had surprised him at first. When had he started to think that  
university students - his peers - were uninteresting? They led such safe,  
normal lives. They never got shot at (well, hardly ever), they never got  
kidnapped, they didn't get drugged (except on purpose), they didn't have to  
be airlifted out of forests (okay, there had been that one incident with the  
students from Berkeley...), and they didn't spend much of their time in  
hospitals. Still, Blair wouldn't have traded his experiences as a police  
observer for anything, and since he'd been hanging around with cops, his  
peers just seemed so... flat. Boring. Uninteresting.

Blair supposed he could have dated that new TA who'd been making eyes at him  
in the cafeteria, but he'd been down that road before, and he knew how it  
would end. He needed more... stimulation. Mental stimulation, that is. A TA  
wouldn't provide it. Their eyes tended to glaze over when he asked their  
opinion about police procedures or recounted one of his hair-raising  
adventures with Jim Ellison, Super-Cop - that is, if they even believed him.  
Half the time they didn't.

So this was why Blair was sneaking into the loft at the sinfully early hour  
of 11 p.m., hoping that Jim was already asleep.

***

He was hardly three steps inside the door when he heard it. Noises. Moans.  
Coming from the upstairs bedroom. Whoops. Looked like Jim wasn't asleep  
after all. Blair smiled to himself, wondering who Jim had up there. Surely  
not that waitress from that new restaurant Jim had dragged him to, the one  
with the vacuous smile and dark auburn hair?

At least Jim hadn't heard him, but then he didn't expect him to, not with  
the Sentinel being... er... *occupied*.

Blair continued across the floor in the direction of his room when he heard  
something he would never have expected, not in a million lifetimes. Jim's  
voice. But it wasn't the voice, it was the words.

"Fuck me harder, dammit! Harder!"

Blair froze. *Jim*?? Begging someone to *fuck* him?

A male voice, much lower, whispered something that sounded like, "Don't want  
to hurt you."

"I need it," Jim ground out, sounding strained and desperate. "You know I  
need it! Please, do it!"

Blair couldn't listen to any more. He left the loft as quietly as possible.

But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't leave. He had to see who Jim had up  
in the loft, had to know. Had to know the *why*. But he wouldn't know that  
until he had the who. So he sat in his car and waited.

***

Upstairs, Jim's boss and friend, Simon Banks, got up and pulled on his  
boxers. "You want something, Jim?"

"Just a soda or something," Jim replied, not having moved from his position  
face-down on the bed.

Simon went down, grabbed two sodas and returned. "Jim?"

Jim turned over, flipping the sheet over himself. "Thanks."

"You all right?"

"Yeah." Jim Ellison was a man of few words.

"Care to tell me what the hell happened? Why now?"

"Not really, Sir."

"Come on, Jim, don't 'Sir' me now. Just tell me what triggered it."

Jim thought about it, but he honestly didn't know. "I just felt... remember  
how it was, before?" Before Carolyn, he meant. Before the Sentinel thing.

"All too clearly," Simon replied.

"It was sort of like that... Except this time I didn't have an old army  
buddy to help me out. I'm sorry, Simon."

"Jim, when I told you I'd be there for you I meant it. But it still seems  
sudden. Before, I could always tell. You'd get crankier than usual and  
there'd be a buildup. But tonight... your phone call was the first inkling I  
had. Why is that?"

"I've been hiding it, Simon. From Blair."

"Blair."

"He's straight, Simon. He doesn't need this."

"What exactly doesn't he need, Jim?"

"He doesn't need to worry that I might ravish him in his sleep, or grope him  
or something. I don't want to betray his trust like that."

"Sandburg wouldn't think like that, Jim. You know he wouldn't. Hell, he'd  
probably give you a lecture about some ancient tribe that practices ritual  
sex like this." Simon smiled.

"It's not a part of me I want him to know about. I honestly thought it was  
all over. When I married Carolyn, when the Sentinel stuff started, I thought  
it was over. It never went away completely, but I thought I had it under  
control. Apparently not." Jim took a large drink from the soda bottle. "I'm  
sorry I pushed you before, Simon, but you know I had to have it that way."

Simon finished his own soda and got up off the side of the bed where he'd  
been sitting. "Look, it's late," he said as he dressed. "I'm gonna head home.  
Jim... you want my advice, tell Sandburg. Maybe the whole thing is related  
to your repression of your Sentinel abilities or something."

"I'm not repressing them now, so why did I need it now?"

"Jim..."

Jim put the soda aside and flopped down, flat on his back. "Maybe I'm just  
some sort of... slut or something. A bottom with control problems."

"Jim - "

"Why else do I need to get fucked on a regular basis? Huh? Tell me why,  
Simon."

Simon wanted to argue that it was hardly a regular basis, that it hadn't  
happened in years, that this time was probably just an aberration... But he  
knew it wouldn't do any good. He didn't know what made Jim need it, anymore  
than Jim did.

"Get some sleep, Jim," Simon said, heading down from the bedroom, resolving  
to think about this... need... that was afflicting his best detective.

***

Blair was almost asleep in his car when he saw movement in the entrance to  
the building, and then Simon - Simon! - walked out. Blair hurried to look as  
if he'd just driven up, and quickly got out of the car, pasting a smile on  
his face. "Hey, Simon."

"Sandburg."

"Shooting the breeze with Jim, or work?"

"Not work," the captain replied, seeming distracted. "You take care." He  
headed to his car, got in and drove away.

"Curiouser and curiouser," mumbled Blair, going in.

As he climbed the stairs, Blair realized that he was pretty damn shocked.  
Jim and Simon. Jim Ellison and Simon Banks. Jim was screwing... actually,  
make that *Simon* was screwing *Jim*. Who'd have thought.

The loft was as he'd seen it half an hour ago, but Jim was in the kitchen  
wearing only boxer shorts, eating some left-over lasagna. He smiled when  
Blair dropped his keys and hung up his jacket.

"Hey, Chief."

"Hey, Big Guy. I just saw Simon. He seemed a little out-of-it."

Jim turned a rather interesting shade of pink, which Blair pretended not to  
notice.

Blair continued talking, acting as if nothing was wrong. "Jim? Is it a new  
case?"

"Nah, he just dropped by for a while and we watched some game on ESPN, you  
know..." Jim said it very uncertainly, which telegraphed to Blair that there  
was something wrong. He wondered if the Sentinel knew how easily his Guide  
could read him.

"Oh," he said, keeping his voice light. "Well, I'm off to bed. Night, Jim."

"Night, Chief," Jim replied, rather distractedly.

***

Blair watched his friend for the next few days, but there didn't seem to be  
any indication that it had happened, or would happen, again. Simon acted the  
same as always, and there were no underlying signals that he could detect.  
Had it just been a one-time thing? But then he noticed slight changes in his  
Sentinel's behaviour... he was slightly - *slightly*, mind you - more testy,  
he flew off the handle a *little* more quickly, and he didn't touch his  
Guide as often as he usually did.

Blair knew that Jim used the touches to anchor himself, so if he was  
deliberately suppressing the need to touch... Something had to be wrong. But  
he couldn't go to Jim about it - what would he say? 'Anything you need to  
tell me, Big Guy? Want Simon to fuck you again?' Right. That would go down  
well. Death was not on Blair Sandburg's agenda. He was bothered by the fact  
that Jim hid this from him so well - or would have, if he hadn't been  
looking for it. Jim did not want him to know, that much was obvious.

When Blair got home almost two weeks after the, er, Incident, Jim was  
watching a Jags game on TV. He smiled cheerily at his Guide, but Blair had  
become more sensitive to his Sentinel since the Incident, and knew that Jim  
was actually quite tense. "Hey, Big Guy," he grinned, smiling as happily as  
he could.

"Hey, Chief. What's up? Got a hot date for tonight?" It was a perfectly  
reasonable question, considering that when Blair grinned like that, it  
usually meant he had some hot young thing lined up.

Blair used every technique he knew to keep his heart from pounding.  
"Actually, yeah. Just came back to dump my stuff and change." And then he  
did exactly that, trying not to feel guilt at what he was about to do. Jim  
would *kill* him if he ever found out.

Less then fifteen minutes later he emerged from his room, dressed to kill,  
with his hair tied back. "Look okay?" he asked.

Jim looked him over nonchalantly. "If your goal is to get laid without even  
going anywhere," he said sardonically.

Blair winked. "Now you're getting it, my man."

Jim just smiled indulgently. "Have a good time."

"Will do," the Guide replied as he collected his keys and left the loft.

***

Blair sat in his car four blocks from 852 Prospect. It was far enough away  
that Jim wouldn't hear his heartbeat, but close enough for the equipment to  
work.

It had been so gloriously easy: he'd charmed a couple of bugs from the  
attractive rookie in charge of Property, saying that Jim needed them in a  
hurry and he'd misplaced the paperwork... The young woman hadn't even  
blinked, merely handed over the necessary items with a wink, promising not  
to say anything to Jim or the captain about the missing paperwork, as long  
as he got the stuff back to her in the same condition. Blair had smiled his  
charming smile and agreed, then he had gone back to the loft and calmly  
bugged the phone, the lounge area, the kitchen, the bathroom, and Jim's  
bedroom. He had to know what was going on. Jim didn't start screwing his  
captain and then act weird afterwards, all the while trying to act normal,  
without a reason. He'd have bet anything that Jim was straight, or at least  
not a bottom, but the words he'd heard couldn't be denied.

Blair listened to the loft sounds. Jim was still watching the game. He  
settled in to wait, wondering if anything would happen tonight.

***

Nothing happened that night, or the next two nights, and the whole thing was  
starting to pall when on the fourth night, Blair heard Jim get up and mumble,  
"No, dammit, no," to himself, then pick up the phone.

Blair switched to the phone bug so that he could hear the conversation.

"Simon? It's Jim."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You know that favour you mentioned... I need it again."

"It hasn't even been a month. *Again*?"

"Please, Simon." Jim sounded desperate.

"All right. Look, just sit tight. I'm on my way."

Blair switched back to the house bugs when he heard Jim put down the phone.  
So it was finally going to happen. Blair never even questioned his  
motivations in bugging their place, or wanting to listen to his friend get  
fucked by another man... No, he was the Guide, and there was something odd  
going on with his Sentinel, and that meant that he had leeway to do this. He  
would *not* feel guilty about it.

***

Simon arrived twenty minutes after Jim had called him. Jim answered the door,  
feeling very shaky.

"Geez, Jim, you're shaking like a leaf," were his captain's first words  
after walking in.

"I need it, Simon. I need it so bad. It feels like... like I'm going to...  
to... *implode* or something."

"Have you tried, y'know, taking the edge off?" Simon asked, making a certain  
gesture with his right hand.

"Over and over. It's not *that*. I can come anytime." 'And have,' he added  
silently in his mind, remembering three days before, when he had masturbated  
in the bathroom of the precinct - the *precinct*, for goodness sakes! -  
trying to stop the urge from overcoming him. But it had not helped, not in  
the least.

"Jim, sit down. Let's have a beer." Simon tried to be reasonable. He thought  
back to when he'd first learned of this strange... urge... of Jim's. It had  
been just after Jim had started working in Major Crimes... after Jack had  
disappeared. He and Jim had gone out and gotten smashed one night, and he'd  
heard the whole story.

It wasn't something that had started now; Jim had always felt certain things  
for other men, and he'd fooled around some, but it wasn't until he'd tried  
to fit back in to civilian life, tried to deny his feelings for men, that  
this had manifested itself. 

Simon had asked then if it wouldn't be easier for him to just go with it, have   
flings, whatever, but Jim had been steadfast. No. He wanted to be a regular guy,   
have a wife and kids, and so he was doing his damnedest to live *without* other   
men. But it wasn't working; occasionally, Jim needed something, needed to have   
intercourse with himself on the bottom, and he had an old Army buddy who   
'helped' him out at those times. Simon now speculated that Jim always wanted to   
be on bottom in order to somehow punish himself for being this way. But in truth,   
he didn't know for sure, and neither did Jim.

Simon remembered promising Jim that if he needed help, he would be there. It  
had seemed a safe thing to promise: Jim's Army buddy (Jim had never divulged  
his name) was available, and Simon was married. The phone call from Jim a  
month back had changed that, however. The Army buddy had long since been  
killed on a mission, Jim had said, and he *needed* help. Simon had wondered  
if he could do this, but in the end he had agreed, *and* he'd promised not  
to tell Sandburg any of this. He knew Jim was afraid of what his friend  
would say or do if he knew.

So Simon had done what he'd never even imagined himself doing: he had fucked  
another man. And he'd kind of enjoyed it - the physical aspect, at least...  
Simon looked up. Jim was staring at him now with a kind of naked hunger.

"Jim?"

"I need it, Simon, *please*."

Simon finished his beer. "You're sure?"

"No. I don't want it at all, but I have to. I *have* to," he repeated.

***

They walked upstairs to Jim's bedroom, and Jim began taking his clothes off  
with no preamble or finesse.

"I still say you should tell Sandburg. Maybe he can figure it out."

"*No*."

Simon sighed, and began undressing as well. "I still think..."

"Yeah, I know. You think I don't want to be this way, and this need is my  
way of punishing myself. But why do I *like* it when you're fucking me, huh,  
Simon? Why?" Jim asked rather aggressively. "I came last time without you  
even *touching* me."

"You're a Sentinel; maybe you're oversensitive... you know, there."

"Maybe." Jim didn't articulate his next thought, which was that he *was*  
sensitive *there*, and that if he could have been fucked without a condom,  
he would have done it. He knew he'd be able to feel the evidence afterwards.  
He *wanted* to feel it afterwards, wanted it desperately, but he knew that  
Simon would never agree, and so he didn't even ask.

Jim rummaged in the nightstand and brought out the tube of lubricant and the  
brand of condoms that Simon had insisted upon. "Here." He handed the condoms  
to Simon while he prepared himself.

Simon looked at the form of his best detective on the bed, readying himself  
for *that*, and instantly became aroused. He'd never really felt attracted  
to men, but the sight of Jim doing *that* turned him on greatly. Maybe that  
was why Jim did it himself: he knew that little else would get his captain  
in the state he needed him in. Simon rolled the condom on and reached out a  
hand for the tube. Jim handed the tube to him, and he lubricated himself,  
allowing himself to feel pleasure only now.

Then Jim was turning around, holding onto the rail behind his bed with both  
hands, knees on the bed, his ass exposed, waiting. Waiting for *that*. "Do  
it hard, Simon. I need it hard."

Simon bit his lip and climbed onto the bed behind the detective. He had the  
strangest urge to kiss Jim's exposed back, but he restrained himself. Jim  
didn't want kissing or displays of affection. Jim wanted to be fucked. Hard.

With minimal touching, Simon lined himself up and pressed inward, feeling  
Jim relax around him and let him in. Simon had been shocked when he'd first  
done this and Jim had relaxed so completely: it meant he'd done this before.  
A lot. A person did not learn *that* reflex overnight.

"Oh yeah," Jim gasped as Simon entered him. "Yeah..."

Simon said nothing; he merely began to thrust, slowly at first.

"More, Simon. More."

Jim's instructions were obeyed. The police captain moved faster, harder, and  
finally lost himself in sensation, forgetting the enormity of the act,  
forgetting that this was a favour for *Jim*... he simply drove on, toward  
completion.

***

Blair hadn't moved for the last twenty minutes, ever since Simon had walked  
in. And now that they were actually *doing* it... He'd placed the bug on the  
side of the nightstand, and he could hear every grunt clearly. Blair closed  
his eyes and tried to imagine what they looked like, what *Jim* looked like,  
performing this act.

It was only when he heard Simon's cry of completion, followed almost right  
away by Jim's, that Blair realised that he was hard as rock, and almost as  
desperate as Jim had been... not that he'd be able to do anything about it  
now.

*Jim*. Clearly, there was more going on here than an affair. And the only  
way he'd find out was if he went to the loft and surprised them. Simon would  
not have had a chance yet to even put his clothes on; he could walk right in  
and 'catch' them.

***

Jim was still holding onto the railing, breathing heavily. He felt like a  
junkie who'd just had a fix: it felt great now, but it would wear off soon  
and he'd need another one. He *knew* the satisfaction would be briefer than  
last time, that the urge would come back faster. He just knew. And he hadn't  
a clue what to do about it, except ask Simon to fuck him on a regular basis.

But Simon was straight, and was only doing this because he was Jim's friend,  
and the Sentinel did not want to impose on him that way. It was already an  
imposition, he knew. But for now... "Thanks, Simon. I needed that."

"I know." Simon had discarded the condom and was putting on his boxers again.  
"I'm going to get a drink. Soda, like last time?"

'No,' thought Jim. 'I need to get really drunk.' "Yeah, fine."

Simon began to descend the steps, even as the front door opened and Blair  
Sandburg walked in, his eyes bugging out as he saw Simon, naked except for  
the boxers, coming down from Jim's bedroom.

***

Blair had *heard*, had *imagined*, but actually *seeing* it was something  
else. Simon, almost naked, obviously having had sex with Jim. His carefully  
rehearsed speech, his carefully constructed flippant comments, it all flew  
from his mind as he was confronted by Simon.

The two men just stood where they were, staring, until Jim came to the  
stairs. Jim had heard Blair enter the loft, and now had his underwear on too.  
"Blair... I... this..."

Simon sighed. "This isn't what it looks like."

Blair took a deep breath and just started laughing. He laughed until he had  
no breath left, staggering to the couch and collapsing. "They always say  
that, man!"

Simon went downstairs into the kitchen and retrieved the drinks. As Jim came  
down to join him, he handed Jim his drink and said, "Now's a good time to  
explain, Jim. I'm getting dressed and getting the hell outta here."

Jim took a swallow from the bottle and went over to the couch, sitting as  
far away from Blair as he could. He didn't want to spook his Guide. He was  
still surprised, however, when Blair didn't flinch or move away from the  
'queer'. "Can I explain, Chief?"

"I think you'd better," Blair replied seriously, able to think again now  
that he'd gotten some of his frustrations and worries out in that laughing  
fit.

***

Simon left, but neither of the men noticed as Jim explained his needs. Blair  
listened to Jim explain how it had been a minor thing, something that led to  
a little fooling around in the army, then had turned into something else  
when he entered civilian life. He told Blair *everything*, even talking of  
his army buddy, who had been glad to scratch his particular itch, and how  
he'd left on a mission and never returned.

"He was killed somewhere in South America," Jim finished. "I couldn't find  
out where."

"So Simon stepped in."

"Yeah, but we've only done it twice, Chief." Jim was surprised at how calm  
Blair was about all this. "Chief? Aren't you going to... I dunno, do  
something? Threaten to move out? Yell at me?"

Blair sighed. "I'm not going to yell at you, Jim. This isn't something I  
need to yell about. I just want to know why you didn't just *tell* me."

Jim's face twisted. "Sure. Tell my straight male roommate something like  
that. I thought you'd be outta here at warp ten."

"Look, Jim, first of all, I'm not exclusively straight." Blair rushed on  
before Jim's surprise could overtake him. "Second of all, why have you tried  
to repress this?"

"I don't want it, Sandburg!" Jim yelled, still annoyed that people wanted  
him to 'go with it'. Then he stopped, realizing belatedly what Blair had  
said. "What do you mean, not exclusively straight? I've never smelled a man  
on you!"

"I haven't been with one for a long time, Jim. Any men I've been with have  
had to be really special." 'Like you,' he wanted to add, but didn't. He  
focused instead on the problem at hand. "Jim, repressing it had made it take  
this form, don't you see? You're punishing yourself for needing male  
contact."

Jim opened his mouth to deny Blair's words, then shut it again. His Guide  
was usually right about this kind of thing. "Go on," he finally said.

"Before this, when you 'fooled around', did you always want to be on  
bottom?"

"No, we just went with the flow."

"But now it's what you need?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Describe the urge as best you can."

"The urge." Jim was aware that he was starting to blush, but he needed  
Blair's help here. "It's like... like a fix, okay? Like having some medical  
condition that has a few possible drugs you can take, but only one works.  
And in order to suppress the problem, you have to take it more and more  
often. Like junkies I've seen. I feel like that, Sandburg, and it isn't fun.  
Please, help me to stop it."

"Stopping isn't going to help you, Jim."

"What, you want I should continue to let Simon fuck me?"

"No, no, that's not it at all." Blair took a deep breath. "Look, Jim. What  
you need at this stage is a man to be with. Like in a relationship. You need  
to accept that you're gay."

Jim once again wanted to deny that, wanted to say that he was bi, but  
somehow Blair had cut to the heart of it. He could enjoy women, sure, as  
long as he was able to fool around with men. The men had always been  
essential, the women... not. He'd stopped looking at men when he'd married  
Carolyn, but he couldn't deny that he'd still felt that urge, even if he'd  
pretended not to. "So that's it?" he asked. "Accept it, then go out and find  
Mister Right? Do I see a problem here?"

Blair sounded exasperated. "Jiiimmm..." He sighed. "You can't deny it, and I  
take sublimating it with women isn't working anymore. There's only one  
option left."

"I don't want to date guys, Chief."

"If you don't want this to have a hold over you anymore, you might have to."

"I mean, I don't want to do the bar scene or whatever damn scene is in vogue  
now. I'm not like that. I need..." He stopped, blushing furiously.

Blair became concerned. "What, Jim? What is it?"

"I need to do it *naked*, okay? I could never do that with some guy I picked  
up."

"Naked. You mean bareback?"

"Yeah. No protection. I need to feel it *all*, Chief."

"You and Simon..." Blair couldn't articulate the rest.

"No. Simon insisted on condoms."

"Thank God," Blair responded.

Jim got up, frustrated, and started pacing. "Dammit, Chief, why couldn't I  
just have done it with you!"

Blair felt his body respond to that, and remembered how hard he'd been in  
the car, listening to Simon fuck Jim. But all he could articulate was, "What?"

Jim stopped pacing, looking horrified at what he'd said. "Oh, God, Chief,  
I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just... I've seen your test  
results. I know I could do it naked with you." Jim listened as Blair's heart  
attempted to leap out of his chest. He rushed on. "But I swear, Blair, I  
won't try anything. You never have to worry about me. I'd never do anything  
that you didn't want, or try to force you. You have to know that."

"I know that, Jim." Blair was stunned, but did Jim *want* him, or just want  
someone safe? He tried again. "You could go to a gay club... not a bar, one  
of those social-type country clubs. There's more of a chance you'd meet a  
*nice* man there. And you wouldn't have to, you know, *do* anything at first.  
You could use condoms until you were both certain."

Jim flopped back down on the couch, putting his arm over his eyes. "This is  
not happening. We are not discussing this. Tell me you aren't planning my  
future sex life for me."

The Guide smiled. "Well, we have to be practical. If you want to be in  
control - which I know you do, Jim; you're the poster boy for anal retentive  
\- then we have to make sure that you control this, that it doesn't control  
you." Blair smiled, thinking of the irony of his words.

Jim sat up, hearing the smile in his voice. "Well, when you nail it, you  
nail it, Chief." He smiled back, looking into those deep blue eyes...

And something changed. Jim felt it - a moment of shock, of recognition, like  
two ships passing in the night, cliched as that was. God. He *did* want  
Blair.

Blair felt it too. Jim wanted him - not just someone safe, Jim wanted *him*.  
For once, the ever-talkative Blair Sandburg was unable to speak.

For a long moment they just sat there, staring at each other, not knowing  
what to say or do. Finally, Jim broke the spell. "I have to get to bed. I  
still have to change the sheets, and I'm tired."

That galvanised Blair into action. He put his hand on Jim's arm. "Jim."

Jim paused in the act of getting off of the couch. "Yeah?"

"If you really did want me... *me*, as opposed to just wanting someone safe  
to be with... I wouldn't say no."

Jim pulled away gently and got up. "You have your own life, Sandburg."

They were back to 'Sandburg' again. Blair sighed. "Jim, I know that. But  
you're part of it. We both know this is forever. I'm your Guide for life, no  
matter what else happens."

"I won't do that to you." Jim started for the stairs.

"If I recall, I'd be doing it to *you*."

"Goodnight, Sandburg." Jim clearly did not want to have this conversation  
anymore.

"Yeah, okay, Jim. The discussion is tabled for now."

***

Blair removed the bugs the next time Jim was out of the apartment, and he  
didn't say anything more. He refused to feel guilty about bugging the  
apartment. He was the Guide; he had to know what was going on. 

And now Jim seemed fine, but he knew it wouldn't last. Hardly a week had   
gone by before Blair started seeing what he thought of as the 'signs' - signs   
that Jim had that urge again. He also knew his Sentinel was trying to hide it,   
but he was tuned so carefully into Jim's moods that Jim might as well have   
worn a neon sign.

***

It was an ordinary Wednesday night, and they were watching a cop show on TV.  
Jim was critiquing the police procedures, and Blair was commenting on the  
acting... But all the while there was a strange undercurrent. Jim was  
restless. He kept changing position on the couch, getting up for beer and  
snacks, sitting down, going to the bathroom... Finally, Blair snapped.

"Jim, why don't you just call Simon and get it over with?"

Jim paused in mid-position change. "What?!"

"You heard me. Obviously, you heard me."

Jim stared at his Guide. "You're assuming a lot, Sandburg."

"I'm assuming correctly, though, aren't I?" Blair didn't give an inch.

"Yeah." Jim sagged.

"So why don't you just call Simon?"

"He doesn't really... I mean, he's straight. It's imposing."

"So impose. He's a friend. He said he'd help you, or have you forgotten that  
part?"

"I can't."

"Jim..."

"You don't understand, Sandburg! I *can't*!"

"Jim..."

"NO!" Jim got up from the couch and walked away, towards the stairs.

Blair caught his arm before he could go up. "Jim, talk to me, dammit!"

Jim whirled around and grabbed Blair, shoving him up against the wall. "It  
won't matter, okay? It won't make any difference!"

"WHY?" Blair persisted, even as Jim held him in a vise-like grip.

"Because I want *you*. Because ever since you offered, I can't stop thinking  
about *you*."

"I don't see the problem, Jim."

"I won't do it, don't you understand? I won't stop you from having a life.  
You can't get married, have kids, do all your anthro stuff with a lovesick  
Sentinel hanging onto you!"

"Maybe I *want* you to hang onto me, Jim. Maybe I want to make love to you,  
to be with you."

"No." Jim let Blair go, and stepped back. "No."

Blair stepped forward. "YES! I never really thought about it until I found  
out about you and Simon, but yes. I've always felt like something was  
missing, and you have too, don't deny it. I think that maybe what we've been  
missing is each other. Hell, Jim, we do almost everything together anyway."

The Guide smiled slightly. "I'm happy here, like this, with you. Everyone  
has been telling me how different you are, with me. Like you're settled. So  
what if we add sex to it? We practically live in each other's pockets as it is!"

"What about love, Blair?" Jim sounded tired, almost... defeated.

"I do love you."

"I mean *that* way."

"Every way, if you'll let me."

"You're serious."

"Damn straight." Blair laughed suddenly. "Or not," he giggled.

Jim smiled too. "Not," he said. "I do love you, Chief."

"I know."

Jim glanced up towards his bedroom. "You think you're up to this?"

"Let's go up and find out, shall we?" Blair's grin suddenly got... lecherous.

They climbed the stairs together.

***

Being fucked... no, being *made love* to by Blair was unlike anything Jim  
had experienced before. Not that the physical sensations were so different,  
but the feelings... those were. Emotions were involved, here.

They had come upstairs and undressed quietly, and then Blair had kissed him.  
The minute his Guide's lips had touched his, Jim had known he was lost. He'd  
known that even if they never did this again, he would never have this urge  
again. He'd have had what he wanted; he'd have had Blair.

And now Blair was inside him, naked, and this too was unlike anything he'd  
ever experienced before. He could feel *everything*: skin, veins, moisture...  
the whole shebang. And not once did he want to yell something like, "Harder"  
or "Faster". It was slow, it was sensual... it was perfect.

And when Blair finally moved faster inside him, moved towards orgasm, Jim  
felt his own approach, tied to his Guide's.

"Jim!"

"Blair!"

They came at almost the same time, and Jim just lay there, face-down on the  
bed, unable to move. And he *could* feel it, feel Blair's semen inside him.  
He'd done it bareback only once, about twenty years ago, and he hadn't been  
able to feel it, then. But now... he was truly himself. He was a Sentinel.  
He could feel it now, and it was calming to know that part of Blair would  
remain with him.

Somehow, Jim ended up with his head on Blair's chest. "That was beautiful,  
Chief," he said after a long while.

"I knew it would be."

"How did you know?" Jim asked, listening to Blair's heart, feeling Blair's  
breath whisper over him.

"It's obvious once you think about it." His Guide had gone into lecture mode,  
but the Sentinel didn't mind; he just smiled against the masculine chest.  
"We're meant to be together. I didn't think of you this way until recently,  
but now it's kinda like, 'Duh! Why didn't I notice it before!' Do you know  
what I'm saying, Jim?"

"Yeah." A long pause. "So is it only us from now on, or do you still want to  
date co-eds?"

"Jim, no man in his right mind..."

"You better be agreeing with me, Chief..."

"No man in his right mind would go back to a co-ed after having dated *you*.  
I mean, what woman could compare?" Blair snickered, and Jim laughed as well,  
but sobered after a second.

"I don't want to bring you down, but I need to know. If you do, I'll find a  
way to handle it."

Blair sat up, dislodging his partner. "No, Jim, I do not want to date co-eds.  
I don't want to date anybody. I wasn't even dating much before this. My  
dates were just... flat. Dull. Uninteresting. Even subsconsciously, I already   
knew I was meant to be with you. Even if you just sit on the couch watching   
the game, it's more exciting than being in a club with two dozen co-eds!"

"So we're together, then?"

"Yeah, Jim. Together."

"And we can tell people?"

Blair frowned a little at that. "Who do you want to tell?"

"Everybody!" Jim said suddenly, enthusiastically. "I want to shout it from  
the rooftop of the Wilkinson Tower!"

"You're serious. I would have thought..."

Jim subsided a little. "Yeah, I know. Anal retentive Jim Ellison, so deep in  
that closet you need an Army Ranger unit to find him."

"Well, I think we've established that you're *not* actually anal retentive..."

Jim blushed. "Blair!"

"Okay, okay. Jim, I'm not ashamed. I'm just worried. What about the people  
at the PD? Our friends, mutual and not?"

"We'll work it out, Chief. Take one day at a time, how's that?"

"Yeah, I could do that."

***

Simon was the first person they told, and strangely enough, he didn't seem  
at all surprised. "I should have known. You two are perfect together," he  
said while they were at lunch two days after Jim and Blair got together.

"We are?" the partners said in unison.

"Sure. Tall and, er, not so tall. Short hair, long hair. Calm, hyper. Quiet,  
annoying..."

"We get the picture!" Jim laughed, throwing up his hands. "We get the  
picture, Simon."

"Good. You two, you fit."

Jim grabbed Blair's hand and held it, in full view of Simon, the waitress  
and the other patrons, and Blair didn't pull away. "I'm glad you think so,  
Sir."

"So, no more phone calls?"

"Not *those* kind, anyway," Jim said, seriously. "I *might* need some help  
taming him, though, Simon, he's a handful..."

The heat which flooded Simon's face amused Jim, even though no one could see  
the captain blushing. Even Blair grinned. "He's kidding, Simon."

"Yeah, I know." The captain paused. "You know, Sandburg, I think Jim had  
that backwards. *You* might need some help taming *him*."

"Nah, you did that for me already. I think I can handle it from here."

"I'm still here," Jim put in, wondering how the two of them managed to  
discuss him like this. Blair wasn't blushing in the least.

Then his captain and his lover burst out laughing, and Jim joined in. It  
would be okay, he could feel it.

***

"Well, I think today went well," Blair said as they came in after a gruelling day   
pounding the pavement looking for witnesses to a drug deal gone bad which   
had resulted in one death and *major* destruction of property.

Jim was hanging up his jacket. "Huh? We didn't find one witness, Sandburg."

Blair smiled, hanging his own jacket up. "No, man, not that. The thing with  
Simon."

"Oh, yeah, that. Well, one down, a couple hundred to go." Jim got himself a  
beer - he needed one after *this* day - and handed one to Blair before  
flopping down on the couch.

Blair flopped down right next to him. "He was happy for us, Jim."

"Yeah, wasn't it nice?"

Blair looked into his lover's face, but Jim was totally sincere. "It *was*  
nice, Jim."

They sat there for a long time, in companionable, blessed silence. Finally,  
Blair asked the question that had been on his mind since lunch. "How's the  
urge?"

"It's gone," Jim said, sounding as if he'd only now noticed. But he'd known  
that once he had Blair, it would go. And it had.

"Gone? Like, totally?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. Why do you think that is?"

"Because I'm with the person I'm supposed to be with," Jim answered  
confidently.

Blair sat up straighter. "You mean that!"

"Of course I do."

"I'm your Mister Right?!" The Guide sounded incredulous.

"Yeah. We're each others', don't you see?" Jim put one hand into Blair's  
curls and brought him closer for a long kiss. "Tell me you understand,  
Blair."

"I do understand, man. It's like... like *destiny* or something."

"Yeah."

"Jim, I *love* you!" Blair launched himself onto his Sentinel, knocking him  
flat on the couch.

Jim lay there under his Guide, and giggled slightly. "Oooh, macho man. I  
like it. And I *love* you, too, Chief." He wriggled under Blair, feeling  
himself harden, even as he felt the beginnings of Blair's arousal.

"Jim..." His Guide's voice sounded so sexy when he whispered like that.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna fuck?"

It hadn't been what Jim had expected, but somehow it made him just that  
little bit harder. "Always," he said truthfully.

"Wanna fuck *me*?" That question was slightly more uncertain.

Jim lifted a hand and stroked Blair's curls. "You *want* me to fuck you?"

"Yeah." Blair leaned down and captured Jim's mouth, letting his tongue play  
for a while. "Yeah, I do, if you can handle it."

"I'm sure it'll come back to me, Chief. Liking riding a bike..." Before he  
could finish, his mouth was captured yet again.

"I'll take that as a yes!" Blair said, enthusiastically when they broke for  
air.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go upstairs and fuck."

"Make love."

"Yeah, that too," Jim said.

And they did.

THE END


End file.
